


Midriffs

by cuddlesome



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: / lid falls off of the pepper/, British Slang, Brother-Sister Relationships, Explicit Language, Gen, Protectiveness, Spike Town | Spikemuth (Pokemon), Team as Family, i will pepper in the fact that spikemuth accents sound reminiscent of cockney accents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28704492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Piers doesn't approve of Marnie's gym leader uniform.
Relationships: Mary | Marnie & Nezu | Piers, Nezu | Piers & Yell-dan | Team Yell
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Midriffs

**Author's Note:**

> Very much felt inspired by (loud sound warning!) [Chu Chu Lovely Muni Mura](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY9Cr0a5dCs) between its punk sound and pedophile callout. Marnie’s gym leader outfit makes me so uncomfortable and I have a hard time believing Piers would be okay with it.

“So which one of you fuckin’ tossers gave that rig-out the go-ahead?”

Piers paces back and forth in front of every member of Team Yell in Spikemuth. His heels click on the concrete. None of the grunts want to meet his eyes. They're almost always loud, it's in the name, but at the moment they're dead silent.

He had a gig during the time that she was getting fitted for her gym leader outfit. He couldn't have guessed the results would be so disastrous. 

“Well?" Piers demands, glaring acidly at each of them. "Who let my little sister go out on the street lookin’ like she was dressed by a tart? Own up so I can shove a boot up your arse.”

His voice is particularly rough and guttural from not taking care of his throat proper after his most recent performance. He’d been far too distracted by the sight of a trainer battling Marnie a couple of streets over.

He felt a swell of pride. Then he caught sight of what she was wearing and felt sick to his stomach.

“You lot’re supposed to look out for her and keep her safe.” He jabs his finger at the closest man. “I turn my back for one second and you cock it up.”

“We didn’t think—“ He meekly begins, but Piers cuts him off.

“You're right! You didn’t think!" It takes a lot to drive him to this level of anger and his sore throat is burning with the force of his hoarse yelling. "If you had thought for two seconds, you would’ve realised that you're endangering her letting her walk out with those clothes. Just put a neon sign 'round her neck calling for every minging nonce in Galar, why don't you?"

He spits on the ground.

“Piers,” a female grunt pipes up, “we all saw it and we know it looks... like that, but she was excited 'bout it an' we didn’t want t’ hurt her feelings none—“

Piers stomps over and looms above her with a murderous expression. “So you thought you’d just let everyone see her half starkers on the telly? Huh? That the conclusion you came to?”

"N-no," she squeaks, covering half of her face with her banner as if to shield her. "We were gonna tell her she oughta change it, just couldn't figure out how t' do it. We knew she'd be safe here at home."

"Safe? Here? With only you good-for-nothings to protect her?" He turns away, crosses his arms, and bounces his heel against the ground. "I expected better. Don't know what I was thinkin'."

"P-Piers—!"

"Boss!"

"We're so sorry!"

More than half of the grunts sound ready to burst into tears in light of his disappointment.

And amidst all of the yelling there's a small, soft voice that somehow manages to be heard despite it all: “‘S not their fault, big bro. Let ‘em alone.”

"Marnie," the grunts chorus. 

“Marnie,” Piers says, voice and the tension in his body lessening somewhat as he turns to regard her. “What’re you doin’ here?”

She hesitates, looking at the crowd of grunts. She doesn't handle large audiences quite the same way he does.

He flaps a dismissive hand at them. "Get outta my sight."

They don't hesitate to obey his order. Some of them start to say goodbye to Marnie, but that’s stopped right quick when Piers glares at them.

Once they’ve all cleared out, he unfolds his arms and turns to address Marnie. "So you heard all that, huh?"

"Hard not to. Might as well’ve been usin' a mic." 

She’s thankfully out of her gym uniform and in her usual attire. She holds her morpeko in her arms. He had shed all over her clothes. Piers walks over and dusts the worst of the fur off, stopping only to give morpeko little pats.

"I take it you know why I'm mad, then, yeah? There are creeps out there, Marn, who ain't above pervin' on young trainers. I wish you could wear whatever you want, but the reality is you can't go paintin' a target on your back." 

It's hard to say it aloud to her, sticking hard in the back of his throat. The thought of anything happening to her is nightmarish.

"I'm fine, though, see?" Marnie says, standing up a little straighter. "You don't need to be so bothered."

"I ain't bothered." 

They both slur over the word until it's nearly unrecognisable, _bovvered_ , in a way Piers knows makes Spikemuth accents less marketable than the no less thick but far softer tones that color Milo's Turffieldian drawl or Melony's Circhesterian lilt.

"I ain't bothered," he repeats, "I'm straight-up narked off."

"They ain't my keepers, Piers,” Marnie tries again. "Team Yell can't be breathin' down my neck over every little thing."

Piers makes a disapproving noise. "They oughta be."

She puffs out her cheeks in a qwilfish-esque show of frustration that she's affected since she was little. He presses his forefinger and thumb to them, forcing her to deflate her cheeks in a hard exhale and consequently fight down a smile.

They start heading towards home, an unspoken agreement. The sunless city is familiar in its dark and cold but for the first time Piers worries about how Marnie would fare in the low temperatures, particularly in her gym uniform.

“What happened with the clothes was on me,” she says, partly hiding her face against the back of morpeko's head. "It was my idea, really.”

"Don't feed me that. You know I can tell when you're lyin'." He can't, not always, she's gotten harder to read as she's gotten older, but damn if he doesn't try.

Some small, negligible part of Piers wonders if he's being unreasonable. If someone who wears clothes as tight as he does is being hypocritical by being prudish. Well, maybe he is, but that doesn't matter.

She sighs and hugs morpeko a little closer. "Everyone in Team Yell shows their midriffs. I wanted to represent them, yanno?" 

Is that it? That's... really sweet, actually. Misguided, especially considering her outfit shows a lot more skin than even the raciest grunt, but...

She goes on. "And the stylist said the audience'd like it, so..."

"What?" He stops and turns to her. "Who was it?"

"Don't matter," she says, shaking her head and continuing to walk.

Piers' long legs allow him to catch back up with only a step.

"Sure does. I'll have Leon fire 'em. Better yet, have Riot pay 'em a visit." He doesn't outright say that he'll have his obstagoon rip the offending stylist's guts out, but his tone implies it.

"Well, now I really ain't gonna tell you."

"Marnie..."

They've reached their doorstep and Piers makes his usual fumble through his jacket for the keys. Outer pockets, then inner.

"I oughta wear a jacket like yours, huh?" Marnie comments. "But closed?"

She's changing the subject, apparently very determined to defend the stylist with questionable morals. Surely she's gotta know he's going to track them down regardless. 

For now, though, he musters up a little smile for her. "That'd be a start."

She smiles back, just as small and tentative but no less genuine. It's adorable and something he hasn't seen in a while, not since she started her journey. He gives up on looking for the keys for the moment.

"C'mere." He lifts his arms.

Marnie blinks at him. "Why all of a sudden?"

"Do I need a reason to hug my baby sister? Could make one up, I s'pose," he says, then exaggeratedly groans, "Marnie, my last single had sales that were just 'orrible. I need some commiseratin', stat."

She sighs and rolls her eyes a little but it's ultimately all for show. She comes forward and embraces him. Piers hesitates before he wraps his arms around her. He may have asked for it, but he's never been good at giving hugs. He knows he can't be very pleasant to hold, all boney and sharp, but Marnie snuggles up to his chest, gently squishing morpeko between them.

He pats her shoulder. "I know you've got a lotta grownup responsibilities what with the gym and all, but you're still a kid, Marn. I'm gonna keep you safe, and that includes from creeps. Hell, I'm gonna keep doing that when you're an adult."

Marnie groans and presses in tighter, earning a chitter from morpeko. "That's gonna get real friggin' annoyin'."

He squeezes her back. "Learn to deal. I love you."

"Love you too." She separates from him and tilts her head, thoughtful. "Do you think the jacket oughta be white or black?"

"Black, obviously, like your usual coat." He gestures to his jacket and jokes, "White's my color."

"What? Nah, you got both." She points at his hair.

"Nothin' preventin' you from doing both, too, yanno."

She hums. He can all but see her ideas for a gym leader uniform flashing before her eyes. He hopes he can inspire something that she'll like and that won't have him worrying about her the way the first one had.


End file.
